


Through Eyes of Autumn and Gold

by Kitashi



Series: Through Eyes of Courts and Fate [14]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, One-Sided Tamlin/Feyre, POV Alternative, Rated for Minor Language, Spoilers, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 47 of A Court of Mist and Fury from Lucien's POV</p><p>They've been hunting for Feyre for two months... and now that they've found her, are they prepared to take her back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Eyes of Autumn and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So... this is literally my first fanfiction in probably 12-13 years. I absolutely love this series, and was so disappointed at the small number of fics to read when I was finished. This scene stuck with me pretty hard, & I genuinely wondered what had to be going through Lucien's head as this all went down.
> 
> Most of the dialogue is straight from Chapter 47 for accuracy of the scene, with some additions at the beginning and end to give framing and setup. Additionally, as this is from Lucien's POV, he is not aware of all that has happened to her up to this point, or how her feelings have changed, so take that into consideration. (I'm a Rhysand/Feyre shipper to the core, sorry I'm not sorry.)
> 
> THIS CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR BOTH BOOKS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> *ahem*
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoy! :)

We’d been at this for two months.

A blast of wind blew past us, making me shiver. No matter how warm my leathers were, having that much metal and weaponry on me was like having my own personal winter attached to my body, and it was _cold_. Adding rain to the mix was just unfair. I looked out at my men. They were clearly exhausted, soaked to the bone, and ready to look for a camp soon. We’d been in nearly every Court’s territory between Spring and Day, with nothing to show for it. This time, we were operating on Ianthe’s insistence that ‘friends’ of hers had seen Fayre in this region. Although I didn’t trust that power-hungry harpy masquerading as a High Priestess, we had no other leads. Bron and Hart had dutifully joined my party, whether out of loyalty to Tamlin or to the peace it would bring to have Feyre back, I didn’t know. I ran my fingers through my soaking crimson hair, not sure what we were going to do.

Tamlin had been a wreck since we had returned from the western sea border to find our guards knocked out or just coming to, and Feyre nowhere in sight. The only one who could tell us anything was Alis, and what she knew was minimal at best. All we had was a description of a blonde Night Court woman who had picked up an unconscious Feyre and walked away. We couldn’t tell if the destruction was from the woman breaking in, or from Feyre trying to get out. The only things that saved Alis from Tamlin’s wrath for not protecting his beloved were her loyalty throughout the years and Feyre’s affection for her.

I had felt horrible leaving her there, trying to sooth her with promises of trying to convince Tamlin to train her, to ease up on her, that I knew I couldn’t keep. There was no arguing with Tam once he had made up his mind. I had to be loyal to my Lord, to the Court I served. He counted on me.

The pretty words sounded good at least.

The wind blew through me again, my hair going in all directions, the rain like icy knives against my skin. With a growl, I untied an extra string of leather from my armor, and pulled my hair back as best I could. It was better than nothing.

“Lucien!” Bron said, suddenly on edge. I was about to ask him what his problem was, until I smelled it too. We looked at each other wide-eyed.

“Get the others. Now.” Bron vanished, winnowing to the other men. I took off towards the scent, hoping we weren’t too late.

~~

As we arrived at a clearing, her scent was strong. She had her back turned, surveying the area around her. She suddenly held up a hand, not saying a word. A moment later, she made a vulgar gesture at no one over her back. It was confusing at best, but I wasn’t about to overlook our good fortune. I looked at my men, who all nodded at me. We strode into the clearing together.

“Feyre.”

She whirled around, an arrow nocked in her bow, aimed right at us. Bron and Hart stood on either side of me, their awe and fear at the wild and heavily armed leather-clad creature before us almost corporal. I looked her over with my good eye. In fact, she looked horrified to see me; definitely not the welcome I had expected when I did finally find her.

“We’ve been hunting for you for over two months,” I said quietly. I knew that Rhysand had to be nearby; he wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to kidnap her from Tamlin with no means for us to retaliate, only to let her go free. It wasn’t that bastard’s style. I scanned the area around me, hoping to catch him before he got the jump on us.

“How did you find me?” Her voice was cold, even. Nothing like the broken woman I had last seen on the other side of that well-meant, but cruel Spring manor cage.

I found my voice, realizing she still had an arrow trained on us, and was expecting an answer. I decided to tell her the quick version. Tamlin could explain it all when we had more time, when she was safe. “Someone tipped us off you’d been out here, but it was luck we caught your scent on the wind, and-” I took a step towards her, but she took a step back. She was so close to the edge, to the crashing stream behind her. I felt my good eye widen. “We need to get out of here. Tamlin’s been – he hasn’t been himself. I’ll take you right to-”

“No,” she said quietly. The word rasped through the rain, the stream, the pine forest. I could feel my men’s discomfort; this was not going according to plan. I looked at her again.

She looked healthier than I had last seen her, her face and curves filled in, more like the human I had first met once she had some food in her; her blue-grey eyes no longer dead and emotionless, but honed, sharpened steel. I then realized what she was wearing.

Illyrian fighting leathers.

I never had, and never would, think of her like Tam did, but I couldn’t help but notice that she looked damn good. Those gowns and trinkets that oblivious harpy Ianthe had dressed her up in, like Feyre were a doll for her to showcase… they were beautiful, but they didn’t suit her like these did. These made her look like the deadly force that had single-handedly saved us from Amarantha’s curse.

“Feyre,” I said, holding out a hand. “Let’s go home.”

She didn’t even flinch. “That stopped being my home the day you let him lock me up inside of it.”

I felt the sting in her voice like she had slapped me, but I schooled my face to keep her from realizing how her words hurt. I scowled at her. “It was a mistake. We _all_ made mistakes. He’s sorry – more sorry than you realize. So am I.” I meant every word. I took a step toward her again, and she backed up again. Not much space between her and a fast-moving watery grave, High Fae or no. I had to get to her before she panicked and did something stupid, or worse, her bastard jailer arrived. I was honestly surprised he hadn’t shown himself. He was here, I knew it; he was the High Lord of Night, the shadows his home and his plaything. He could be anywhere. I shoved it in the back of my mind. If I could just get to her before he showed up, we would be back in the Spring Court before he could catch us. He was fast, but I knew I was faster.

“Feyre,” I pleaded, taking another step toward her, my hand still outstretched. Winnowing her away would just require a touch…

She answered by aiming her arrow directly at me.

“Put that arrow down,” I murmured. She was like a wild animal, poised to strike the closest thing to her at any moment, and likely to harm herself in the process. I sensed my men slowly closing in around her, cutting off her escape. She would either come with us, or she would get hurt. I really didn’t want to explain the latter to Tamlin if it came to that. If he even gave me the chance to.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Her voice was not like the Feyre I had known when Tamlin brought her across the Wall. It was reminiscent of Under the Mountain, though I hated to think of that awful, Cauldron-forsaken place. It was the voice of unbreakable will.

“You don’t understand the mess we’re in, Feyre. We- _I_ need you home. Now.” She really didn’t realize what it had been like since she had been stolen away from us. Tamlin had been inconsolable, more like the man he had been in the nearly fifty years of the curse Amarantha had placed on us, except with his full power to destroy anything and everything in his path. The only thing keeping him from snapping completely was knowing that she was out there. The day we received her letter, telling us the most ridiculous lies, most of the household had run like hell. He didn’t believe a word of it. ‘It was all Rhysand. He made her write it, or someone else,’ he said. What he said made sense; the Feyre we knew was illiterate. It had almost cost me my life Under the Mountain.

Looking at her, I noticed she had taken her eyes off of me. My chance.

I lunged out at her, my hand out, ready to winnow her home. My finger grazed her sleeve of her jacket.

And she was gone.

I staggered, barely keeping myself from going over the cliff as I had feared she would, and whirled around trying to figure out where she went.

She was behind me. And so was Rhysand.

I froze. Rhysand stood next to Feyre. Unlike Feyre, he was not in Illyrian fighting leathers, but his Court clothing. Nothing that would even be remotely appropriate for the wilderness or battle, the arrogant prick. He picked at his tunic, like someone disinterested in the proceedings, but required to be there.

“Little Lucien,” he purred, cruel amusement on his face. It was clear he was enjoying this, and that made my blood boil. “Didn’t the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?”

“Prick,” I snarled, storming past my men. He was one to talk, taking Feyre on her wedding day, claiming their “Bond” allowed him to waltz in and disrupt such hallowed proceedings as she begged us not to let him take her, as Tamlin caved and let him. “You filthy whoring prick.” I didn’t dare draw my weapons. I may be angry, but I wasn’t stupid. Even if he did insult my mother.

Feyre growled. I turned to her. Her face was a twin of Rhysand’s, unfeeling ice that made me shiver.

“What have you done Feyre?” I couldn’t keep the horror out of my voice. This was not the Feyre I knew. Feyre was stubborn, dangerously so, but she was fiercely loyal. There was something wrong.

“Don’t come looking for me again,” she said softly. She had to know that just wasn’t possible.

“He’ll never stop looking for you; never stop waiting for you to come home.” A twinge of something crossed her face and I knew I had hit a nerve. I pressed on. “What did he do to you? Did he take your mind and-”

“Enough,” Rhysand interrupted, angling his head the way a cat would as it decided what to do with its prey. “Feyre and I are busy. Go back to your lands before I send your heads as a reminder to my old friend about what happens when Spring Court flunkies set foot in my territory.”

I couldn’t believe this. All this time spent searching, hunting for her, not only on Tamlin’s orders, but because I wanted her home too. For all that she was sarcastic, irreverent, and naïve… she was family.

The freezing rain around us barely even registered in my senses. I didn’t doubt that Rhysand’s words were not an empty threat; arrogant he may be, but he had reason to. I mustered up what courage I could into my voice. “You made your point, Feyre – now come home.”

“I’m not a child playing games,” she said pointedly. I had to bite back a laugh, despite the situation. She sounded exactly like one saying that. And really, though she didn’t understand it, compared to us she _was_ one. She had only been Made less than half a year ago. She barely knew how to keep her strength under control holding a fork, let alone navigate the nuances and intricacies of Court life. She _needed_ us, _needed_ Tam.

“Careful, Lucien,” Rhysand drawled, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Or Feyre darling will send you back in pieces, too.”

“We are not your enemies Feyre,” I pleaded with her. I know she is in there somewhere. “Things got bad, Ianthe got out of hand, but it doesn’t mean you give up-”

“You gave up,” she interrupted me quietly.

Everyone around her froze, even Rhysand.

“ _You_ gave up on me,” she said louder. “You were my friend.” The past tense stung like a knife. “And you picked him – picked obeying him, even when you saw what his orders and his rules did to me. Even when you saw me wasting away _day by day_.”

“You have _no idea_ how volatile those first few months were,” I snapped. I could feel my temper rising, barely restrained. I was cold, wet, tired, and I just wanted to go home. “We _needed_ to present a unified, obedient front, and I was supposed to be the example to which all the others in our court were held.” This had taken far longer than I had anticipated, and I was tired of these games.

“You saw what was happening to me. But you were too afraid of him to truly do anything about it.”

Her words hit home, but I couldn’t even come up with a retort before she continued.

“I begged you,” she said, her words sharp and breathless. “I begged you so many times to help me, to get me out of the house, even for an hour. And you left me alone, or shoved me into a room with Ianthe, or told me to stick it out.”

“And I suppose the Night Court is so much better?” I asked her quietly. I had no defense for my actions, but I knew that there was nothing like the Court of Nightmares in all of Prythian – nothing more debauched, more debased, and certainly nothing like the Spring Court, even at its worst.

Feyre hesitated for a moment. I relaxed slightly. She was still in there.

My relief was short lived, as suddenly I felt a dark, cold presence coming from her. Her fingers became talons, sharp and vicious, and a pair of matching wings sprouted from her back.

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that darkness begins to stare back,” she said quietly, her words as sharp as the talons.

I looked at her in quiet horror as I unwillingly took a step back. “What did you do to yourself?” I asked her, though I felt that my answer was the shadowy bastard who still stood next to her, who despite his calm face had murder in his eyes when he looked at me.

She gave me a small smile, looking the most like herself I had seen this entire conversation, but still lethal. “The human girl you knew died Under the Mountain. I have no interest in spending immortality as a High Lord’s pet.”

I shook my head, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in her words as she stood next to the man who would make her just that. “Feyre-”

“Tell Tamlin,” she choked on his name, clearly on the thought of her beloved, the real her who missed him as much as he missed her, “if he sends anyone else into these lands, I will hunt each and every one of you down. And I will demonstrate exactly what the darkness taught me.”

Her words went through me, the pain as real as could be. This was not Feyre. They, no, _he_ had her under some kind of spell, something that tied her to him. It was probably that Cauldron-cursed bargain of theirs that he was exploiting for his own pleasure and amusement. I shuddered at the thought of what he had likely done to her to make her act this way towards us, to regard us so coldly.

I looked at my men and nodded. There was no getting her back today; that much was clear. Bron and Hart, wide-eyed and shaking, vanished with the others, clearly happy to be leaving with their lives.

I looked at her a bit longer, not relishing what I was going to have to tell Tamlin in a few moments. We stood in the clearing, the three of us, for a long moment.

“You’re dead.” I said to Rhysand softly. “You, and your entire cursed court.”

I winnowed away.

~~

I appear on the gravel drive to the manor a few moments later, my soaking appearance out of place in the balmy spring afternoon. I used a bit of magic to dry myself, and walked towards the manor, trying to think of ways to explain what had just happened.

I was barely through the doors to the dining room when Tam walked in.

“What happened?” he asked. I didn’t bother trying to ask him how he knew. He always knew.

“Rhysand has her,” I said bluntly. He growled at the mention of his name, and turned away from me, his fingers tapping on the top of the chair, clearly agitated. After a moment, he spoke.

“Is she… is she well?”

“She looks healthy,” I answered honestly. For a moment, I wondered if I should tell him everything or not. His hand on the chair clenched into a fist.

“What else.” It was an order, not a request.

“I think he’s been training her. She… she _winnowed_.”

Tamlin turned around, unable to hide his surprise. I really couldn’t blame him. I was still processing it all, and I had seen it with my own eyes.

“I think he has her under some kind of spell,” I said quickly. “She refused to come, and grew wings, and-”

“ _She what_?” I winced. I really should have worded that more delicately.

“Calm down Lord Tamlin,” said a female voice from the stairs. In strode Ianthe, her priestess robes as pristine as ever. She gave me the once over as she walked by, brushing my shoulder with her hand. I ignored it.

“She is clearly is under some kind of spell. It probably has to do with that bond, the bargain he forced upon her.”

I was about to interject, tell her to get the hell out and do whatever it was a priestess was supposed to be doing, when Tamlin suddenly spoke.

“Your friends… they can bring her back?” He sounded broken. I almost let out a groan. It never ended well when he got like this.

Ianthe gave us both a feral grin. “Shall I introduce you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! I'm considering writing some other POVs for other parts of these books if this is well received. If you have any suggestions for any other scenes/POVs you would like to see, please let me know!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Update 6/19/16:
> 
> Hey everyone! I have a writing Tumblr now! If anyone is interested in talking and discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


End file.
